by George Orwell
been re-reading 1984
what a stunning novel. really timeless. it could be any time he’s talking about. the past the future. it is more like the whole book is a metaphor for believing what your senses tell you. i’m afraid i have the most sy(e)mpathy with Julia. she’s trying not to let any of it touch her so far. living her life, defying everyone. but not seeing as a personal triumph but more, just the way things are. this means she swallows most of it, most of what the party is telling her. but she is alive. she’s alive though she doesn’t know for how long. only caring about the things that touch her.
the passage with the prole woman singing. singing as she hangs out the laundry. singing while the bombs are falling. but she sings the music generated by the government. generated to keep her in line. to keep her busy. to keep her singing. to keep her hanging up her laundry while the bombs are falling. i will try to find that passage again.
And in the end they give each other up. And end the end Winston loves Big Brother.